The Band Chronicles: Chapter 1
by Fire-Pokemon43
Summary: Chapter 1 of a series of random stories related to band kids I know.


It was in the spring, on the dawn of war between two opposing factions, the beginning of a great and terrible war. Many wept in preparation of what was to come, for whether victory or defeat, it would be a gruesome war. Some said that one side would win, others contradicted, and then others believed that both parties would kill the other, plunging the surrounding area into chaos and despair. Whatever the verdict, no one could dispute that it was going to be an epic struggle, the likes never before seen.

Now, on one side of the fighting was a young soldier named Mordici. Mordici disliked fighting, preferring to play music than practice archery or spear throwing. However, even though he despised it, he was actually quite talented with a sword, moving him up the ranks of the army fairly fast. Everyone that met him knew that, if anyone could find a way to end the war, he could.

As the power struggle between the superpowers continued throughout the fall, and eventually the winter, Mordici led a fair number of assaults upon the enemy faction. All the while, Mordici stayed at the front of the troops, logically the first one to be slain, but he always was just lucky enough to avoid injury. Every time he led a charge, he handily won another victory.

However, no matter how many battles he won, the war was going badly for his nation. Skirmishes across the border between the two countries pushed the war far backward into friendly territory. Land first considered to be far enough away from the fighting were starting to be overrun with the enemy army. Towns far from the original action were being plundered by rival troops.

The only hope for Mordiciwas to win a decisive battle, which could turn the tide of the war. Such an opportunity presented itself, at Træxðj Mountain.

Træxðj Mountain was a twenty-league high hill. It, with a combination of other mountains beside it, created a barrier between the enemy forces, and Mordici's nation capital. If he couldn't stop them here, the war was over. Hoping that he could find outside help, he sent a messenger to the other generals, giving him the chance to have reinforcements at the upcoming confrontation. None could arrive soon enough. Whatever Mordici did, he would have to do on his own.

Preparing his troops for battle was no easy feat. They had broken shields that needed mending, a need for more swords, and a desire for food. Most of all, however, was their necessity for someone to lift their spirits. As Mordici walked throughout the camp, he began to formulate an idea. Gathering all the musicians for his various battalions, he began to teach them simple, but intricate, melodies. He practiced with them for a few hours, and then called the army together for a concert.

The music may have been simple and crude, but it inspired the men. Dreams of valor and glory flew through the troops, as different songs were delicately weaved from the orchestra. Intricate melodies,and counter-melodies, and harmonies, and counter-harmonies were all sewn together, giving the army courage to fight, giving them strength in the dire face of death and defeat. No words could describe what happened that night, but it gave the men something to fight for.

The next morning, the troops prepared for battle. Not a word was spoken. The camp was solemn and peaceful, like the calm before the never-ending storm.

Eventually,the time came. The time for war.

The enemy army was only a few hundred feet from the base of the mountain. All of them had fresh armor and weapons. Brightly polished breastplates shone in the midday sun, reflecting light every which way. None seemed scared for the obvious ambush that seemed to be almost upon them. Why would they be, considering their last victories? They greatly outnumbered the measly ten-thousand opposing forces, with their sixty-thousand strong battalion.

Halfway up the mountain, the commander signaled to stop. Everyone craned their heads to see why they had halted their march.

At the top of the mountain, mounted upon a stallion as white as snow, sat Mordici, his flowing blond hair like rays of sunshine. In his hands, instead of a weapon,was a bronze saxophone.

The opposing army began to laugh. How would a musical instrument help in any way to conquer an entire army? They continued to laugh, until Mordici began to play. He created a complex melody, inspiring awe in the enemy forces. He continued to play, until eventually, the melody slowed down, and ended.

Mordici then unsheathed a sword, and with his saxophone, sounded the charge. The two armies rushed at each other, brandishing swords and all weapons of war except Mordici, who began to play with a quicker tempo than before.

Determined to silence him, a group of five soldiers rushed at Mordici, thrusting swords at him and his stallion. He jumped off his horse, and, ceasing to play, began to parry the blows with his saxophone. On the exterior of his sax was a specially fitted metal cross guard, designed to catch weapons, and deflect them away. This is what enabled him to floor all of his assailants.

As the two armies clashed, Mordici again began to weave a melody from his sax, unnerving the enemy soldiers. Step by step, accompanied by Mordici, they began to advance upon the enemy. The rival army tried to flank, feint, do anything that would change the tide of the fight, but Mordici and his men were indomitable.

After the battle, Mordici got the band from the army back together, and started teaching them more complicated, yet more beautiful, music than what he had taught in camp. With his orchestra, he went from city to city, lifting others spirits up after the cold desolation of war.


End file.
